


Alone

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:23:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4162053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone has a preference. Such as when it comes to sex, relationships, Coke or Pepsi, Apple or Android, survive with a group or survive alone. For Alfred Jones, it was simple. Survive alone. Don’t depend on anyone else. Anyone else can die. Alfred lived in a world riddled with the walking dead. At one point, he did have a small company. Him, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew. They all worked out fine until Matthew died and Francis fell apart. Alfred didn’t show any emotion and swiftly shot Matthew to avoid any possible zombification. At that point, Arthur took Francis and they left Alfred to his lonesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 0. Prologue

Everyone has a preference. Such as when it comes to sex, relationships, Coke or Pepsi, Apple or Android, survive with a group or survive alone. For Alfred Jones, it was simple. Survive alone. Don’t depend on anyone else. Anyone else can die.

Alfred lived in a world riddled with the walking dead. At one point, he did have a small company. Him, Arthur, Francis, and Matthew. They all worked out fine until Matthew died and Francis fell apart. Alfred didn’t show any emotion and swiftly shot Matthew to avoid any possible zombification. At that point, Arthur took Francis and they left Alfred to his lonesome.

Occasionally, in this lonesome, Alfred would find an old abandoned bar and break in, indulging himself in the alcohol that was left to him. Most of the time, the acohol had been left for a long time and had become bitter.

Surviving alone was easy for Alfred. He didn’t have to worry about anyone else’s survival. Just his own. He preferred it like that.

Living.

Survivng.

Thriving.

Alone.


	2. 1. Badlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred experiences his first human contact since Arthur and Francis left his company.

His hand was steady. He had years of practice when he was younger and shooting cans off of the back wall at his house. But this was different. He wasn’t shooting aluminum. He was shooting decayed flesh.

As the zombie began its slow limp towards Alfred’s small shack, he took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger. The zombie was down. Alfred stood and gathered his things, exiting the shack and heading down the old highway.

While walking, Alfred kicked a zombie’s head along the street.

“That’s right,” he mumbled to himself. “You don’t fuck with Alfred F. Jones. I’m the fuckin’ hero.”

As the sun began to set, Alfred began searching for lodgings for the night. He came to a small town where he found a small market with an apartment over top. He entered the shop through the already broken window and found his way to the apartment upstairs.

As usual, Alfred had to make sure no zombies were in the house. He began by going to the kitchen, gun ready to shoot. He checked cabinets, under the table, in the fridge; no zombies in the kitchen. Next, he went off to the living room. No zombies.

He started down the hallway. He kicked in the first door he came to; a bathroom. No zombies. He kicked in two more doors, each a bedroom, and relaxed. No zombies at all.

Alfred went back to the living room and closed the front door, locking it. He settled onto the couch and sighed. He pulled an old picture out of his bag. It was a picture of Matthew and him when they were young.

Matthew’s death was the only one that Alfred found to be unbearable. It was completely avoidable. Matthew didn’t have to die. Him dying was all Alfred’s fault.

Alfred soon drifted off to sleep, still holding the picture in his hand.

\--

When he awoke, Alfred sat up right and stretched. He stood and grabbed his things, turning to the door. He paused. The door was open.

“Shit,” Alfred muttered to himself. He pulled his gun out and began checking the rooms again. Bathroom, clear; Bedrooms, clear. That left the kitchen. He slowly made his way to the kitchen.

As Alfred rounded the corner into the kitchen, he noticed a brunette woman rummaging through the fridge. He cocked the gun and held it steady, pointing straight at her head. The brunette jumped and turned around, laughing once she saw the blond.

“Jesus, you scared me there!” the woman said with a slight laugh. Alfred wasn’t amused.

“Who are you?” He asked her. Alfred didn’t move the gun from its point.

“Emma. And yourself?”

“Jones. Why are you here?”

“No first name, Jones?”

“My first name doesn’t matter, why are you here?”

Emma rose her hands in a mock surrender. “At ease, Soldier, I’m just here to get some food.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “And why should I believe you?”

Emma cocked an eyebrow and looked between her hands, one of which was holding a loaf of break and the other had a case of beer. Alfred followed her gaze as well.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right now.”

“Well, for starters,” Emma said, turning her back to Alfred to try and find one final piece of sustenance, “There’s six guys downstairs and a small child who I need to get some food for. And if they hear a gun shot-” Emma closed the fridge and turned back to Alfred “-they’ll come up here and tear you to bits.”

Alfred kept his position for a minute then lowered his gun. He released the clip and emptied the chamber so Emma knew that he was in agreement with her.

“Good boy. Now what’s say you and I go find a place together and finish off this case of beer?” Emma said with a smirk.

“No thanks. I’d rather be alone.”

“Suit yourself.” Emma walked toward the door, grabbing her bag along the way. She went through the door, closing it after her.

With that she was gone.


	3. 2. Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred has no choice but to do a bit of travelling with Emma and her group.

Emma joined her group of travellers carrying a case of beer and a a backpack full of food. She smiled at the seven young men and held up the case.

“You boys are lucky to have me here,” She said as her brother, Abel, snatched the case of beer. He and another friend of theirs, Mathias, dug in, each taking a bottle for themselves. Emil and Lukas, two other travellers, indulged themselves; they took a bottle of beer each. The final three young men, Berwald, Tino, and Peter, didn’t drink. This was mostly due to the fact that Tino and Berwald were the pseudoparents of Peter, who was twelve.

“Emma, do you have anything for Peter to drink?” Tino asked. Emma smiled and reached into her backpack, pulling out a small bottle of applejuice.

“Here, kid.” She handed Peter the bottle with a kind smile. Peter smiled and took it. Tino patted the boy’s head and walked over to the group of drinkers with Berwald.

“You know, Emma, I would’ve liked a soda.” Emma’s smiled turned to a grin as she opened her backpack, revealing to him four cans of Dr. Pepper.

“Don’t tell Tino,” She whispered.

“I won’t,” Peter promised.

\--

Alfred tested the shower in the apartment, surprised to find water still running. He took a quick shower and gathered his things, heading down to the convenience store. He reloaded the gun he had emptied for Emma and stepped outside. He looked left and right down the street and nodded.

He headed left, trudging up the sidewalk with no real purpose. Alfred kept an eye out for any zombies; in front, to the left, to the right, behind. He was clear, aside from the certain rats and bugs.

After about an hour of walking, he was out of the town and on a deserted highway. If he had a car, he’d be a few towns away from that apartment where he met Emma, but he didn’t. Too much risk.

After another hour, Alfred could hear a car in the distance behind him. He turned around, gun at the ready, watching headlights approach him. As it came closer, he could see that it was a van. The van pulled over about twenty feet away from and the passenger door opened. Emma jumped out and rounded the door, placing her hands on his hips.

“Jones, do you know how hot it is out here?” She yelled. Alfred eyed the driver of the van before addressing Emma.

“I’m fine,” He yelled to her.

“Yeah, well, you’ll get sick out here so come on. We’ll get you to the next town,” Emma yelled, moving to get back in the van.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Jones, I will shoot you! Get in the van!” Emma shut the passenger door was the side door slid open. Alfred sighed and jogged toward the van.

He got to the side of the van and was surprised to see Mathias, Tino, Peter, Emil, Abel, and Lukas. He looked to Emma who was looking back at him with a smile.

“These are my boys. Mathias, Tino, Peter, Emil, Dickhead, and Lukas,” Emma said pointing to each young man. Abel protested his new nickname and introduced himself to Alfred. “Up here,” Emma continued, “Is Berwald. He’s like the group dad. But anyway, get in! Get in!”

Alfred got into the van and situated himself next to Peter. Mathias shut the door and Berwald started the engine, driving off.

The first thirty minutes was filled with nothing but the quiet music coming from the radio. The songs that played were in a variety of languages until one was familiar to Alfred.

“Hey, what song is this?” Alfred asked.

“Oh, uh,” Emma reached for the iPod that he didn’t notice was hooked up to the radio, “It’s called... Papaoutai. Why, you know this?”

“Yeah, I know it.”

Emma looked back at Alfred and saw him looking down at his hands. He looked up at her and for a second she thought she saw a pained look in his eyes. He looked back at her nodded, as if to ask what was wrong. She simply shook her head and returned her attention to the road in front of them.

\--

That night, around 10 pm, most of the inhabitants of the van were asleep. Emma and Alfred had switched seats in the van, so that he was up front with Berwald. The music had been shut off and it was quiet, aside from Mathias’ snoring.

“So, Jones, tell me. Why should I trust you?” Berwald said, breaking the silence.

Alfred hesitated before speaking. “I’m not sure if you should trust me.”

“Jones, I need to be able to trust you. If I can’t, you’re out of this van.”

“Why do you need to?” Alfred looked to Berwald whose eyes never left the road.

“Tino and I take care of Peter. We’ve taken him under our wing. We make sure he’s safe and healthy. I need to be able to trust you around him.” Berwald’s serious expression never faltered.

Alfred glanced back at Peter who was asleep, curled into the side of a sleeping Tino. He looked back at Berwald.

“I used to travel with my family. My brothers,” Alfred admitted.

“What happened?”

“My younger brother, Matthew, died. The older two, Arthur and Francis, were fucking broken. I wasn’t. Showed no emotion whatsoever. They left me alone.”

Berwald glanced at Alfred for the first time since he got to the front seat.

“Arthur and Francis?” He asked.

Alfred nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“We met them a few weeks ago. Francis looked like hell.”

Alfred perked up, suddenly very worried.

“Are they still alive?”

“As in, are they alive today? I don’t know, but I doubt it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stromae is life.


	4. 3. Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred assists Emma and her group in dark times.

It had been three days since that conversation. Alfred has since departed from Emma and her group, not without obtaining her contact information.

“Just call, any time. Someone will always be awake to answer the phone. If not me, Berwald or Tino,” she said as she handed Alfred a slip of paper with a phone number on it. He looked to Berwald and Tino who both nodded.

“Okay. I will, keep you all in mind,” Alfred said.

Emma smiled and hugged him. Alfred looked to Abel for help, who quickly pulled his sister away from him.

“Sorry about her, she’s a hugger,” Abel said.

“Really? She didn’t hug me the first time we met.”

“In my defense, you tried to shoot me,” Emma said.

Alfred let out a puff of air in lieu of a laugh and said his goodbyes to the group of travellers. He walked towad the small town they were parked out of while the bunch piled into the van and drove off.

Alfred constantly thought about calling them, seeing how things were. He was two towns away from the town they dropped him off at.

“I should probably call,” He said to himself. “They’re travelling with a kid, kids are harder to handle.”

Alfred was sitting on a park bench; the picture of him and Matthew when they were younger in one hand, Emma’s phone number in the other. He watched the two objects with a mostly absent mind. He was worried about Peter. Peter was a priority.

Three gunshots pulled Alfred out of his thoughts. He quickly stuffed away the picture and piece of paper and made his way toward the gunshots, firearm at the ready. There were four more consecutive gunshots until he got to the location.

What he saw was not what he expected. Emil, Mathias, Lukas, and Berwald were standing in a line, shooting at a hoard of zombies coming their way. Peter was hiding behind a car, thirty feet away from them but dangerously close to the zombies. Four of the creatures were surrounding the car. Peter was screaming for Tino. Alfred looked back at the human shooters and saw Abel holding back Tino.

“Let me go, I have to get my baby!” Tino yelled. He was crying.

“Emma’s going to get him., don’t worry, Tino,” Abel said.

Emma was carefully making her way closer to Peter to get him out of the dangerous situation.

Alfred ran up next to Emil and nodded at him, steadying his gun and shooting, taking out zombies one by one.

“Shit, Emma, get Tino!” Tino had broken free from Abel’s restraints and ran toward Peter. He passed Emma, who tried to grab him. He was quickly at Peter’s side, trying desperately to pull him off of the ground.

“Peter, baby, we have to go,” Tino yelled. Peter couldn’t move, just scream. Attempt after attempt, Tino couldn’t get Peter to stand.

Abel and Emma were with them soon, Abel shooting at the now fourteen zombies and Emma trying to pry Peter from the ground. Tino took a few steps away from them, sobbing.

Finally, Abel knelt down and scooped Peter into his arms, running off. Emma was right behind them.

“Tino!” Peter screamed.

Emma turned just in time to see Tino knocked to the ground by a zombie. The first zombie bit into his neck as three more piled on top of him. Together, the four zombies devoured Tino’s neck, piece by piece. Once the neck was completely gone, one zombie took the head for himself while the other three worked on the body.

Emma and Abel rushed Peter to the van. Emma sat with him while he cried into her shirt. Abel went out to coral the shooters into the van.

One by one, he tapped their shoulders, a sad smile on his face when he reached Alfred.

“Good to see you, Jones.”

Alfred nodded and the two ran to the van, jumping in and closing the door. Berwald was in the driver’s seat, starting the car. When the door closed, he took off down the street, running over zombies in the process.

\--

Once the van was safely away from the hoard, Berwald pulled the van over. Peter had stopped crying and everything was silent. None of the passengers looked at each other; they looked out windows or down at their hands.

After about ten minutes of pure silence, Berwald started the van again and drove. Still, no one spoke. The silence was haunting them but no one was willing to admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> who should i kill off next???


	5. 4. Fighter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a silent agreement that four weeks was a proper mourning period in a time like this.There was no time to sulk and cry for months or maybe even years. Everyone had to understand what happened, and move on with their survival.

It was a silent agreement that four weeks was a proper mourning period in a time like this.There was no time to sulk and cry for months or maybe even years. Everyone had to understand what happened, and move on with their survival.

A few days after the incident, Alfred, Abel, and Mathias went back to that street and located Tino’s body. After a few shots to the head, for safety measures, the three carried his body to a vacant lot and buried him. They left the grave unmarked.

Meanwhile, Emma, Berwald, Emil, and Lukas busied themselves with setting up camp about a mile out of the town where the incident occurred. Emil and Berwald set up tents, Lukas and Emma started a fire, and Peter sat in the van, staring at the floor. When the fire was made, Lukas set to cooking and Emma went into the van.

“Hey, kiddo,” she said, sitting next to Peter. He nodded with a “hm.”

“How’s it going?”

Peter shrugged.

“You haven’t talked in a few weeks.”

He didn’t move.

“Is it because of Tino?”

Peter tensed. He stood up and climbed up into the hammock he slept in.

“Peter, you know I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to get you talking again,” Emma tried to explain herself.

“Emma,” Berwald said from the side door of the van. She looked at him. “He’s not ready, leave him alone.”

Emma sighed and got out of the van, shutting the side door behind him.

“I just want him to talk again. He’s been mute almost for four weeks!” Emma was yelling.

“He’s ten years old and watched his father die, Emma, he’s not going to be the same.”

“He’s ten years old! His innocence can’t die just like that!”

“Look around you. You think someone can keep their innocence in this?” Berwald was calm.

Emma, on the other hand, was fuming. Her face was red and her fists were clenched. The two stared at each other in silent arguing.

At this point, Alfred, Abel, and Mathias had returned to camp. Abel quickly disengaged Emma, pulling her around the van. Mathias met with Emil and Lukas and helped with dinner.

Alfred snuck into the van and nudged Peter.

“Hey, kid, you awake?”

Peter turned over.

“Kid, you gotta talk. You have to say something. They’re starting to worry.”

Peter didn’t speak.

“You really need to talk to Emma, though, she’s the most worried out of all of them and-”

“Jones?” Peter asked quietly.

Alfred stared back at him. “Yeah?”

Peter sat up a bit and pulled up his shirt revealing a bite that was starting to become infected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter so that I can actually update!!
> 
> If you want to read the original story I wrote about 3 or 4 years ago, here's a link: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Fear-Part-1-Prologue-Hetalia-Reader-Insert-286476891


	6. 5. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alfred wasted no time. He left the van and pulled Berwald aside to confront him about his newfound information.

Alfred wasted no time. He left the van and pulled Berwald aside to confront him about his newfound information.

“The kid has a bite,” Alfred said in a hushed tone.

“What do you mean he has a bite?”

“I mean I think when shit went down with Tino, he got bitten in the process. What are we doing about it?”

Berwald was silent for a while. “Have you ever encountered it before?”

“My brother was bitten. He didn’t turn, but he was already sick. The bite just… sped up the process to death. But I did shoot him. Just in case.”

“So, you want me to shoot my son?”

“I’ll do it for you if-”

“No,” Berwald was serious. “No…”

Alfred was left alone as Berwald left and sat with Lukas and Emil. Alfred was stuck. He knew what would happen if Peter wasn’t killed ahead of time and he knew what would happen if he was. None of them could handle it if Peter died; but he would either way. Alfred hated the thought of a ten year old kid having to go through this kind of trauma.

Later that night, when everyone was supposed to go to sleep, Emma and Abel were awake. So was Peter, but they didn’t know.

Emma and Abel laid on their backs, staring up at the stars.

“Em?” Abel asked, quietly.

“Yes?”

“Cut Peter some slack.”

“I know.”

Neither talked for a few minutes.

“Em?”

“Yeah?”

“I need to tell you what Lukas told me.”

A;fred was rudely awakened by Emma who tugged him out of his tent and around to the far side of the van.

“Jones, why didn’t you tell me that Peter was bitten?” Emma sobbed quietly.

Alfred sighed, “Because you’d do this.”

“He’s like my little brother, why would you keep this from me!?” She yelled.

“Emma, shut the fuck up,” Alfred hissed.

“No! I won’t! Why did you keep this from me!?”

“So you wouldn’t flip the fuck out like this!”

Emma opened her mouth to speak just as the back door to the van clicked shut. She and Alfred circled the van to see Peter trying to sneak off.

“What are you doing?” Emma snapped.

Peter was silent.

“Hey, kid, what’s going on?” Alfred asked.

Peter didn’t say anything.

“Peter, please!” Emma sobbed.

Peter, scared, turned and ran. Emma screamed after him while Alfred ran to his tent, grabbed his bag and his gun and chased after him.

Peter was fast but Alfred was faster. He quickly caught up to the ten year old, grabbing him and hauling him to the ground. Peter swung and kicked and screamed but Alfred never let go.

“Calm the hell down!” Alfred yelled.

Peter elbowed Alfred in the face, causing him to release the ten year old. Peter took this opportunity and took off running into the dark. By the time Alfred got back on to his feet, Peter was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im dying inside


	7. 6. Youthless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was morning. The sun was beating down on a field of dead grass as Alfred waded through, searching after Peter. He had now idea where the child had gone and was both furious at and worried for him.

It was morning. The sun was beating down on a field of dead grass as Alfred waded through, searching after Peter. He had now idea where the child had gone and was both furious at and worried for him.

“Fucking kid has to go and run off. Ten fucking years old. About to fucking die. Runs the fuck off. Doesn’t fucking matter if he runs or fucking doesn’t. Dies either fucking way.” Alfred stopped walking. “How many times did I just say fuck? No fucking clue.”

Alfred was way too calm about the whole situations by himself. It was better that way. If he had been with anyone else, they would’ve been screaming Peter’s name, attracting the living dead.

“Kid better pray that he’s dead when I find-” Alfred’s thoughts were cut short by a shrill scream. He cursed under his breath and took off running east - the direction of the scream - firearm at the ready.

After running a while, Alfred came across a horde of the creatures; all headed toward the epicenter. He stopped running, remaining quiet. He hoped Peter wasn’t in the middle. He was thought he was right until he heard it. His name. In Peter’s voice.

“JONES.”

Alfred couldn’t do anything but listen as Peter’s screams went from pleads for someone - Alfred - to come save him. He listened as Peter sobbed over and over again. Soon, the screams went from something coherent or garbled noises and eventually, nothing.

Alfred moved as quietly as he could to hide in the back of an abandoned truck. He waited 20 minutes, checking every four to see how many zombies would leave. Once they were all gone, he jumped out of the truck and went to the spot where the creatures were crowded. There, he saw Peter on the ground, dead.

“Shit.”

Alfred took aim, pointing his gun at Peter’s corpse.

“I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed the trigger, putting a bullet in Peter’s corpse. Alfred let his hand fall to his side as he watched the 10 year old’s body.

After a few minutes, Alfred put his gun away and kneeled down to pick up Peter. He adjusted his hold on the boy’s body so that it was comfortable, and began to walk.

\--

Emma paced around the campsite, silent; something new. Berwald hadn’t left his tent; if he was crying or not, no one knew. Everyone else moved about the campsite like the creatures they were running from.

It was quiet. No one wanted to say anything. It was as if any word that anyone spoke would suddenly cause Peter or Alfred to drop dead in their campsite.

Emma screamed. Everyone looked at her, then in the direction she was looking. Berwald came out of his tent, hopeful that Peter and Alfred were both returning alive. What they found, wasn’t that.

They found Alfred walking toward them with a dead Peter in his arms. No one moved until Alfred was approximately 10 feet away. Berwald was the first to move. He met Alfred out in front of anyone and took Peter from his arms.

Berwald fell to the ground, holding his son in his arms. He started to cry just before Emma ran out and hugged both of them.

While the two of them cried over Peter’s body, and everyone else remained silent, it began to rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost fucking cried writing this I hope you're happy.
> 
> Also, I went through and re-titled the chapters so they didn't look so awkward to me.


	8. 7. Asleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It rained while Alfred and Lukas dug the grave.

It rained while Alfred and Lukas dug the grave.

It rained while Berwald and Emma wrapped Peter’s body in a sheet in an all too depressing attempt to cover the body.

It rained while Alfred, Lukas, Emil, and Mathias lowered Peter’s body into the ground.

It rained for days after Peter’s body was gone. Emma didn’t leave the van at all. She stayed, curled up into a ball, in Peter’s hammock. She was silent. She stopped crying after the boy was buried. She didn’t make a noise.

Everyone else tried desperately to return to normal; it was by no means easy.

It was hardest for Berwald. He’d occasionally yell out part of Peter’s name before catching himself and going silent. He’d remember that Peter wouldn’t hear him. Peter wouldn’t come running to him to see what it was he needed. Peter wasn’t there anymore.

Alfred was there for him. Not verbally, not physically, not romantically, none of that. He was there for him emotionally. He knew what it was like to lose people who was close to him. Even though neither one talked about their losses, they know just by sitting together that they had some sort of loss in common. For that, both were grateful.

When the rain finally stopped, it was 15 days after the burial. Lukas decided it was time to pack up camp and move on. Emil, Mathias, Abel, and Alfred agreed. Emma and Berwald didn’t say anything.

Alfred made the ultimate decision that they’d all move on. Camping next to Peter’s grave wasn’t healthy.

Everyone worked together to load the supplies into the van. Alfred drove and Mathias sat in the front seat. Emma occupied Peter’s Hammock and Berwald sat under it. Emil, Lukas, and Abel sat in the remaining seats. The van was silent. No music played, no one spoke.

“Jones?” Emma called after about an hour and a half of driving.

“Yeah?” Alfred replied.

“Why did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Tell Berwald about Peter’s bite?”

“Emma,” Abel said, voice stern.

“I had to,” Alfred said to Emma.

“No, you didn’t,” Emma spat.

“Emma, stop it,” Abel said.

“No, Abel! Peter’s dead because of Jones and he doesn’t even care!” Emma yelled.

Everyone was silent until Berwald stood from his seat and faced the girl.

“Emma,” he began.

“Berwald, sit down that’s dangerous,” Mathias said, watching the interaction.

Berwald ignored him, choosing rather, to speak to Emma.

“If Jones hadn’t told me, and Peter had never run off, he’d be here suffering. Waiting for the change to overcome him. Waiting for death. Alone and afraid. Would you rather he had done that? Would you rather Peter be alive but dying? If that’s how you feel, you’re heartless.”

Berwald sat down and no one spoke for the rest of the drive.


	9. 8. Or Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months later, there was trouble.

Months had passed since then. Alfred was on his own now. Emma and her group had wanted to go toward a town when Alfred wanted to avoid that. He departed and continued on his lonely way. He felt life was better this way. 

Alfred had taken to writing in a journal Emma had given him before the separation.

“You’ll feel a lot better if you can get your thoughts out somehow. Talk to yourself, too. You won’t go crazy,” she said with a smile.

That was the first thing Alfred wrote in the journal. He wanted to remember that moment. It was his favorite from his time with Emma and her group.

Since that separation, not many interesting things had happened in his opinion. Still, he had written about everything that happened.

\--

April fourteenth

If I'm being honest, I have no idea what day it is. This is a guessing game for me. I'm going off of how long I think I've been traveling. I know it's been a while. A lot of nights. A lot of fear. I have to admit, I'm afraid. I didn't tell anyone that. There wasn't anyone to tell for a while. Until Emma. I don't want to think about that. I need to stay alone for a while. I'll be fine, I can feel it. I do feel the need to say that earlier today I was almost attacked. A zombie? Are these zombies? I guess. So, a zombie snuck up on me while I was building a camp. Didn't bite me, but he did grab me. Scared the shit out of me. I shot it quickly. I hate this shit.

I've been away from Emma for two days.

\--

That was the first of a few encounters with the undead. Alfred had taken to calling the creatures “zombies” like in old horror movies. It made it easier to not be afraid.

A few days later, Alfred made another journal entry.

\--

April seventeenth

I think it's the seventeenth, I have no clue. I just want to write something down before I most likely explode. I was found. By living people. I don't know how these things happen. Who even exists now? Apparently assholes who try to kill me. I'll write again if I'm alive.

I've been away from Emma for five(?) days.

\--

Alfred had been holed up in an abandoned farm house for a few days. It was quiet. The gas still worked so he could use the stove. He had water boiling whe he heard something banging on the front door.

Thinking it was a zombie, Alfred picked up his gun and checked the window next to the door. What he saw, wasn't a zombie, but people. Two grown men and a young woman were outside with guns.

Alfred watched carefully so see if they’d see him. He watched for too long. The girl turned and saw him. She yelled something he couldn't hear and one of the men started kicking the front door.

Alfred ducked down and wrote a quick journal entry. He stored the journal and ducked into a closet as the door was busted through.

The two men were ready, guns up and aimed somewhat. The girl wasn't as prepared. Her gun was lowered and she was carefully looking around for Alfred.

Alfred was too busy looking at the girl to notice one of the men spot him and shoot. Blood was coming from a whole in Alfred’s shoulder in copious amounts.

All at once things started happening. The gun shot. The blood. The men moving. Alfred being lifted. A chair under him. Rope around his arms. The garbled speech he couldn't hear clearly due to blood loss. The girl pulling back with her gun. Her sharp movement.

Darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to start rushing to finish this so that it's done. I'm sorry if you liked this. Oh and I'm going a different direction than I intended so I can end it earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing is a re-vamp of a fanfic I wrote when I was like 14 that was really shitty so I'm writing it again.  
> \--  
> \--  
> Hi this is discontinued I'm sorry


End file.
